


Orlesian Waltz

by mosomacilany



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosomacilany/pseuds/mosomacilany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan and the Inquisition are readying the Orlesian Ball, but something completely different thing bothers the Inquisitor than gaining the approval of the Court.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orlesian Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadaveres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadaveres/gifts).



> Written for Secret Santa Eschange :)
> 
> Happy Christmas, cadaveres, I hope you will like it, it was a very good challenge to write :)

Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow. Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow.

And Cullen stepped on Lavellan's feet for the fourth time in a single minuet.

"Does this really necessary, Josie?" The Inquisitor grunted in frustration. Not just because Cullen was clumsy without any sense of rhythm, but the news he delivered a few hours ago in the War Room. And now they had to smile and dance like nothing happened. The last thing they wanted that ball in Halamshiral, masquerading in uncomfortable, fancy clothes and mingle with the superficial Court.

"Dance is essential, Inquisitor." Josephine answered in her usual patient and jovial tone. "They will watch your every motion, every gesture, and every word. To be Court-suitable is the matter of life and death in Halamshiral." She rattled in her honey-sweet voice spiced with the Antivan accent. She spoke without even taking a breath. The ambassador took that ball too seriously and Lavellan's lightest concern was that bloody festivity and those hypocrite nobles and royalties.

"Let's try again," Josephine ordered and clapped her hands signaling the musicians to begin the play again. Cullen shyly, evading Lavellan's eyes offered his hand for the dance again. They pulled the side of their mouth, acknowledging the necessity of these dance lessons and accepted the Commander's hand.

Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow. Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow.

Lavellan took some stolen glances to Solas, who stood in the dark corner, leaned on the wall and watched them intently. They swept through their eyes on the slender figure of the elven apostate and remembered their conversation in the Fade a few days ago.

 _You change everything._ He said and after Lavellan's faint attempt for some intimacy he kissed them. For real. They hungrily searched for each other's tongue, blindly tried to map each other. And this pleasant memory made her forget what she had done. How many lives sit on their soul?

Cullen stepped on their feet again and this pulled her back to the Main Hall, to the Orlesian Waltz what they should learn for the ball. "I'm sorry, Inquisitor." Cullen apologized, his cheeks slightly red by his blush.

"I'm getting used to it." Lavellan dropped the words to him casually but making it clear how annoying the fact is that he will be their escort to the festivity. He was the secret weapon. Lavellan would have chosen Solas, but Vivienne, Leliana and Josephine dropped the idea instantly, because he wasn't suitable for the taste of the Court. But Cullen with his innocent amber eyes and neatly combed golden locks. They will love him. Leliana stated with a naughty snicker, making a Commander to be more bashful than usual.

"You misunderstand me. I'm sorry about your clan."

"It's not your fault, Commander." Lavellan cut him. There was no room for further discussion. "I made a wrong call."

"But if I were more..." They didn't have a mood to hear these excuses.

Lavellan was fed up with the whole preparation for the ball. The only thing they wanted a few hour of solitude, but there was always something. Attires, dance lessons, etiquette lessons. Utterly useless things. They would win this war on the battlefields, not in a ballroom sipping champagne.

They freed themselves from Cullen's holding and this drew everybody's attention. The music stopped and Lavellan felt that every inquiring eyes fixed on them.

"Inquisitor..." Josephine burst out in a surprised and shocked cry.

"The dance lesson is over." They declared and deliberate strides left the Main Hall to their personal quarters. They did not leave them any opportunity to object.

They took the steps to the chambers angrily as stared the anchor. The Inquisition had an army, a spy network and they still couldn't rescue the clan. They perished and Lavellan left alone. And this was the Inquisitor's fault. They wanted to handle too many things and they gained nothing. Corypheus was still alive they just were milling around one place, learning ballroom dances and court etiquette,

Of course, they knew it was necessary to rescue the Empress and gain the support of the Empire. Josephine and Leliana never miss mentioning this. Everybody needed stability in Orlais and avoid a war with Ferelden and Celene was the key of this.

Lavellan reached the door of their chambers when somebody patted their shoulder. They turned and saw Solas.

"Inquisitor, you seemed distressed." he said. "I'm here if you want to talk about it." And he straightened himself and took his two hands behind his back as always when he wanted to begin one of his endless sermons what Lavellan would listen every time but not today. Now they just wanted to mourn what was lost.

"I'm fine, Solas." they answered and left him there.

As they trudged to the chambers their first walk led to the huge canopy bed, covered with soft and delicate furs and they fell on it. They didn't know how long stared the ceiling with glassy eyes before eventually everything became dark and they fell asleep.

* * *

Lavellan in the rotunda, where Solas always held his lessons about the Fade. It was night, every shadow danced in the greenish-bluish light of the veilfire. They were in that military style formal attire what Josephine chose for the ball, in what they always had to practice at the dance lessons, in what they fell asleep in that huge, ornate bed in their chambers.

He sat at his desk in the middle of the rotunda, reading his notes intently, but as the room echoed their steps he looked up. Lavellan knew it was him, not some spirit playing whit their mind. It was him. The same intelligent sparks in his eyes, the same aura. Solas was somehow... regal. Lavellan couldn't find a better word for it. He was different than any Dalish they knew. Taller in every mean they could imagine. He was something more. He had an aura of mystery like he didn't belong here.

"Inquisitor!" he greeted them. "What brought you here?"

The side of Lavellan's lips tugged to a smirk. "You should know better than me. We are in the Fade, aren't we?" they answered.

Solas chuckled as stood up from his desk, slowly walking to them. "Interesting. I thought you wouldn't realize." Lavellan could never forget the sensation of the reality what Solas created in the Fade. The tingling vibrations on the skin, the hushed sounds, the brightening colors. One unforgettable memory was enough to imprint this forever.

"Now give me your hand, Inquisitor." he asked. No, he didn't ask, he ordered.

"I beg your pardon?" Lavellan asked back.

"Your dance technique needs improvement and Lady Montilyet was right. Your every motion, every gesture will have long-term effects." He stretched his arm and offered his hand. "Give me your hand, lethallin." Lavellan reluctantly accepted it and his other hand gripped their waist, framing them to the right position, right distance. And Solas began to take the steps.

Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow. Quick. Quick. Slow. Slow.

Solas was a surprisingly skilled dancer. Like he was born to do it, gliding her through the rotunda, drawing a perfect circle with their steps. Lavellan could follow his airy steps easily and they began to feel the butterfly in their stomach when the first time they were in the Fade together.

His eyes were always on Lavellan, but they tried to avoid his glance. They remembered how rudely they rejected his help at Skyhold. "You are thoughtful." he stated.

"I killed my clan today." They replied honestly. And there was no pain in their voice what it should be. They didn't feel pain, just emptiness and anger for not feeling anything. And this wasn't right. "They raised me, taught everything I know and I let them die. Or scouts needed elsewhere and I sent Cullen's soldier without any reconnaissance. They walked into an ambush. The Venatori slaughtered my soldiers and my brothers and sisters."  Solas drew her a bit closer as they took the dance steps. "And do you know what the worst in this is? That I can't mourn them. I don't feel pain or devastation, I feel nothing." Lavellan buried their face into his shoulder.

"I'm certain that you made the choice you thought is the best." Solas tried to comfort them, but Lavellan just snorted and snuggled closer to the apostate.

"It was logical. I needed our spies in Denerim to uncover an assassin threatening the royal couple. I sacrificed my clan for shems. But without them Ferelden would have drowned into chaos." They took a few deep breaths before continue. "I did what was logical."

Solas stopped, propped their chin and forced to look at him. "You did what was right."

And this broke something in Lavellan. And burning pain rushed through their pain, a lump in their throat began to pulsate painfully and eventually hot tears trickled down their face. "Now it hurts." Lavellan said, but their voice drowned into a frantic cry. Solas hugged them, planted a soft kiss on their pate.

"It will always be. I'm sorry, vhenan." And he snuggled them to himself, letting her cry everything out. The whole rotunda echoed their sobbing.

* * *

Lavellan stood at the gates of the Halamshiral Palace in their formal attire and watched the grand castle. They took deep breaths, tried to brace themselves for that viper nest what waited inside. They practiced dancing with Cullen every day and with Solas every night. They learned every nuance of etiquette from Josephine. They were ready and still their stomach was in spasm, their hands shook just as their legs.

"You look ravishing, Inquisitor." Lavellan heard Solas' calm and velvety voice behind them. And before they could respond anything he exhaled a kiss on their forehead. "Go and bewitch them." And they stepped through the giant wrought iron gates.


End file.
